Sleeping Beauty and the Demon

by Marina Myles

  “What exactly did he say?”

  Rose relayed the information, ending with Huxtable’s claim that he saw the coin flash images of Drago alive a hundred years ago. “That’s when I knew the man was going too far.”

  “The coin gives me my powers,” Drago said. “I keep it with me except when I sleep.”

  Emotion washed over Rose’s face. “I don’t want anyone telling lies about you.”

  Grabbing her hand, he pressed an urgent kiss to it. “I love that you’re looking out for me. I’ve never had anyone do that before.”

  “I don’t know if Richard will tear up the photo, Drago.”

  Drago’s scowl returned while Rose’s nerves jostled. Should I tell him who my real parents are—and that the Marconis believe he’s the demon my mother saw in her vision?

  Deciding the information could wait until he calmed down completely, she remained silent.

  “Hopefully, I scared Bellum into a paralyzed state,” Drago said. “But, I have more important things on my mind.”

  He gave her a look, dark with desire, and Rose’s body tingled in response.

  “I loved seeing you naked in my arms at the theater,” he said in a sultry timbre. “And I liked feeling your soft skin against mine.”

  She wet her lips at the seductive admission.

  With an abrupt turn of the wheel, Drago yanked the car into a deserted alley and parked it in the shadows. He killed the engine then heaved Rose toward him. When his mouth found hers, he plundered it with hot kisses. The sensation of his hands exploring her body made her cry out.

  “I want you right now,” he said gruffly. “I’ve thought of little else all day.”

  Rose murmured something breathless in return. She’d yearned for Drago—even had her first erotic dream about him, under the covers last night. Now, the desire to repeat their encounter in the theater box crackled through her like lightning.

  Drago tugged her into the rear of the motor car. Bearing down on her over the rear bench, he impatiently pulled at the buttons of her dress. Once he caught a glimpse of her breasts, he fondled them and kissed them alternately.

  Waves of passion and hunger swept through Rose. Drago’s erection swelled and hardened between her thighs and as she reclined across the narrow bench, his warm breath stoked her craving for him even more. She moaned as his expert hands roamed her curves, found her sweet spot beneath her layers of undergarments, and twined her lust into a frenzy. Sweat beaded his brow—and as he murmured his unending love for her, he caught her eyes with a smoldering look.

  Panting, Drago unzipped his trousers and buried himself deep inside her slick folds. Meanwhile, neither of them broke eye contact. Rose gave a little cry as her core opened and closed around his penis. He pressed harder against her cleft. It was just the right amount of force and her excitement soared.

  “Christ,” he murmured against her neck. “You feel so good.”

  As he raised himself on locked elbows, he rocked his slim torso forward.

  “I can’t stand to be without you,” he whispered.

  As she grasped his upper arms, she admitted that she felt the same way.

  Lowering his mouth to hers, he caught her lips with another scalding kiss. Over the next few minutes, he pumped his way to their mutual climax. Rose’s folds contracted over and over and she found herself disappointed when the moment ended.

  Struggling for breath, Drago pitched forward. “We would have fogged the windows if they’d been rolled up.”

  He laughed as Rose smiled. “I can’t stay mad at you very long.” She paused. “Let’s never argue again.”

  “Agreed.” He pressed delicate kisses across her forehead. “I panicked when I looked into the coin and saw the vision of you in the Bowery.”

  “I can take care of myself,” she said as she sat up and covered herself with her dress.

  “Ordinarily you could, Rose. But in my vision I caught a glimpse of a black, unearthly figure following you.”

  “A black figure?” she asked. Could it be the creature her mother saw in her prediction?

  “I couldn’t see the figure’s face,” Drago said while he pulled himself to a sitting position, “but something very evil is coming closer to you, Rose.”

  “Morvina,” she murmured. Feeling the color drain from her face, she looked directly at Drago. “I learned something important tonight.”

  He nodded.

  “My adoptive mother revealed to me who my real parents are.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Malcolm and Florence Hayes.”

  “The famous psychics and spiritualists?”

  Drago recognized the names as she thought he would. “Apparently, my mother held a tarot card session about me,” she rushed on. “She saw a vision of me falling to my death on my twenty-first birthday. And in this vision, a dark figure was the cause of my accident.”

  “A dark figure?”

  “A demon.” She looked into his perfect features, features that were so sublime they had to be a divine product. He couldn’t be a fallen angel.

  “And the Marconis, as sweet as I’m sure they are, think this dark figure is me, I presume?” Drago asked suspiciously.

  “Yes. That’s why they forbid me to see you.”

  “That explains what I saw in the coin.” He scowled. “What you just described to me . . . the vision of you falling. It’s the same scene that came to me three years ago—when I saw the future for the first and only time.”

  She braided her fingers through his. “Is that when you bought the Egyptian amulet and the bracelet?”

  “Yes.” He glided his fingers along her face then cupped her chin in his palm. “After I purchased them from a private owner in Europe, I traveled here in a hurry. I did it all as soon as I saw your extraordinary beauty—and witnessed the creature that wants to destroy you.”

  “Your coin. That’s how you knew Morvina was coming to New York City.” It finally dawned on her. “She’s a witch who cast her own curse over me.”

  “Her own curse?”

  “Yes. She created a damnation spell—to ensure I would fall to my death on my twenty-first birthday. Morvina wanted my mother’s vision to come true.”

  “Christ.” Drago glowered.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever convince Elena and Lorenzo that the dark figure is Morvina and not you.”

  “Now that I’m in New York City, I wish I could see her clearly,” he said. “But her new identity is throwing me off.”

  “New identity? She is that powerful?”

  “You have no idea how potent witchcraft can make a person.”

  “Can’t you look into your coin and see who she’s disguised herself as?” Rose asked with urgency.

  “I wish to God I could.” He helped her up to the front seat and started the car.

  Lulled by the motion of the car, Rose fell asleep in no time. She awakened when the vehicle came to a gentle halt. “Where are we?”

  Drago turned the engine off and stretched his arm across the back of her seat. “We’re at one of my other residences.”

  “One of your other residences?”

  He indicated the house with a wave of his hand.

  Rose looked out her window and gawked at a magnificent mansion. Preceded by a winding driveway and grand gates, it was centered inside a circle of towering elms. The mansion shimmered invitingly in the dark. From its ornate gables that framed endless rows of windows, to its shining gray brickwork that showcased its vast array of rooms, the house possessed all the glamour and elegance expensive taste could buy.

  When Rose stretched her gaze beyond the mansion, she realized that it was perched on the end of a jutting embankment. The embankment, in turn, hovered over the crashing waves of the ocean, next to a hamlet.

  “We’re on the edge of Long Island,” Drago informed her. “In East Hampton.”

  “It’s beautiful, but I thought you were taking me home.”

  “I won’t allow anyone to separate u
s.” His nostrils flared. “If you go back to the Marconis’, that’s precisely what will happen.”

  “I may have broken Elena and Lorenzo’s hearts by sneaking out tonight, but they’ll worry when I don’t come back.”

  He took her hand in his. “You’re a grown woman now. And you needn’t worry about sneaking around without permission anymore.”

  What he said made sense.

  “I want you to stay here with me,” Drago whispered.

  “Live with you in sin?”

  He laughed. “No. Of course not.”

  Her shoulders came crashing forward with relief.

  “I want you to marry me. So that we can be together every minute of every day.”

  Her heart sang as he got out of the car and opened her door. Sinking to one knee, he grasped her left hand and looked up at her wide-eyed. “Will you marry me tomorrow?”

  Rose’s hand quivered in his. “Yes!”

  Drago pulled her out of the car and lifted her off the ground. “Welcome to your new home, the future Mrs. Rose Starkov.”

  After they shared a passionate kiss, Drago and Rose jumped back into the car and streamed up the driveway to the mansion. Drago insisted that Rose stay put as he rushed around to her side of the automobile and swept her into his arms.

  “You don’t have to carry me across the threshold until tomorrow.” She smiled broadly.

  “It’s good practice.”

  He fumbled with his keys and pushed open the massive front door with his foot. Then Drago transported Rose into the mansion’s foyer. She’d never seen anything so splendid. The marble floor shone like precious jewels while an enormous staircase lined in pale English oak rose, split into two sides, and met at the top. Beneath the bottom of the staircase sat a massive sunken drawing room furnished exclusively in white and cream.

  It seemed a house suited for opulent parties—and Rose could easily envision butlers serving champagne to lively guests garbed in sequins and feathers.

  “I come here infrequently,” Drago said behind her. “One groundskeeper and two maids see to the upkeep at the end of the month. That’s the extent of the servants.” Encircling her waist, he spun her around to face him. “Tonight we’re all alone.”

  “Hmm,” she purred.

  “On second thought,” he said with a devilish look in his eyes, “this empty place might bore you . . .”

  She swatted him playfully on the arm.

  Drago whispered against her neck, “Good. I can suggest lots of things we can do now that we’re by ourselves.” With that, he gallantly whisked her up the staircase. Once he passed a spacious landing, he kicked open a set of double doors. A massive bedroom greeted them—a bedroom that overlooked the sharp edge of the hamlet below and hummed quietly with the ocean’s crashing waves.

  Decorated in shades of violet and lavender, Rose found that it suited her completely. She nuzzled her head into the crook of Drago’s neck, never wanting their embrace to end.

  Smiling, Drago spread her across the oversized bed. “Do you like the house?”

  “Yes,” she responded.

  “What do you think of the bedroom?”

  “I love it.”

  “I had it styled to match your eyes.”

  The notion made Rose pull him into her arms.

  CHAPTER 19

  Drago could barely get himself to stir the next morning. Fighting the fog in his head, he reached for his pocket watch and forced his eyes to focus on its hands.

  One p.m.

  He and Rose had slept away most of the day, tired from lovemaking, exhausted from their dark encounter in the Bowery. But as fatigued as he was, Drago smiled at the sight of Rose’s warm body in front of him.

  I can’t believe she agreed to marry me.

  Drago clutched the hand she’d threaded through his. Then he studied its fine veins and satiny skin. The wedding bands he planned to purchase in the nearby shops today would be modest at best, so he’d have to wait and buy Rose a magnificent diamond ring when they returned to New York.

  He dreaded going back to the city but his new show was slated to open in a few weeks. Even he had to admit that his pride over being the world’s greatest magician was beginning to cloud things. Yet, in his defense, he’d never been great at anything except magic.

  Fortunately, Rose would be with him in New York. He knew that having a relationship with her meant isolating her from everything she held dear, yet it was the only way to protect her from Morvina.

  In the silence of the afternoon, he closed his eyes and listened to her soft breathing. Giving a grunt, he entwined his legs with hers. His half-erect shaft bumped against her backside and a surge of erotic pleasure shot through him. After he kicked back the bed-sheet, he stared at her heart-shaped ass topped with an adorable pair of dimples. It was perfection—and all Drago wanted to do was stroke between her legs and bury himself deep inside her core.

  With a tug at her waist, he pulled her closer. Rose stirred beside him but didn’t wake fully. Moaning, she reached backward and cupped his face. He felt her entire body come aflame when he caressed the flair of her hips and pressed his lips to the column of her neck. Reaching down, he slid his fingers inside her center. And from behind, he readied her for a long time.

  Feeling his erection rise, he grasped it and guided it inside her. Urged by his shaft’s almost painful throbbing, Drago plunged and built up friction. And as he pumped, his temples pulsed. Making love to Rose was an insatiable craving. He’d never felt this way about any woman. He could honestly say that he loved everything about her—and knowing that he was marrying her today heightened his desire for her even more.

  Drago reached around and gently played with Rose’s breast. As he tweaked her nipple into a rosy point, he felt the moisture flow between her legs. Wetting his lips, he skimmed the slope of her back with his fingertips before he wrapped one leg over her graceful hip to intensify his thrusts.

  “God, you’re glorious,” he whispered.

  “I love you,” she murmured over her shoulder.

  Nearing release, Drago clutched her desperately. Visions of her rounded derrière and the sensation of her arousal drenching his sex brought him to an astounding climax.

  Breathless, he said, “You’re amazing to wake up to.”

  Rose responded by reaching for his hand and squeezing it.

  “Today is going to be the happiest day of my life,” he said into her shining hair. Then his smile dropped. It would only be the happiest day of his life on two conditions. If he could fight off the lethargy that came with daylight. If he could bring himself to go inside the chapel.

  Late last night, Rose had made Drago promise she’d have a church wedding. Unfortunately, churches didn’t typically welcome demons.

  Before Drago woke Rose, she’d been dreaming of him. Imagining his hewn physique in nothing but a magician’s cape, in fact. The image brought a smile.

  She stretched her arms above her head after they made love and gave a lazy yawn. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

  Drago brushed a locket of hair off her forehead. “You make me happier than I’ve ever been.”

  She sat up and scooted against the headboard. “I’m glad you’re going to keep your promise to make me a respectable woman.”

  He threw his head back in throaty laughter. “Didn’t I tell you? I’ve changed my mind. You will live here as my courtesan. My concubine for all time.”

  “I wouldn’t care as long as we never left this house.”

  He laughed again, his eyes creasing at the corners.

  She studied the man she was so desperately in love with. He had grown a shadow of a beard, and his tousled hair, which shone attractively with golden-brown streaks, had grown longer lately, too. Still, what enticed Rose most about Drago was the way his stare portrayed the hope that Rose would always be content as his wife. That’s what she really loved about him. He would never stop taking care of her and protecting her.

  “Since we’re marrying
today,” Rose said excitedly, “I want to know everything about you.”

  “Hmm . . . I’m so interesting,” Drago quipped. “Where to start?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “All right,” he propped his head on one hand. “I’ve always been interested in magic.”

  “Always?”

  “My family never had any money, so my father would perform magic tricks to entertain us on long, cold nights.” He paused. “Now that I think of it, the diversion it brought was my first glimpse at magic’s power.”

  “That explains a lot.” Rose smiled. After awhile she said, “I’ve always been interested in the unexplained, too. What do you think makes people so fascinated with illusions?”

  “People say they want the laws of nature to be explained,” he replied. “What they really want is to discover the truth about magic.”

  “The truth?”

  “The public isn’t content to be deceived by ordinary tricks anymore.”

  “You mean audiences want to believe it’s not a trick?”

  “Precisely.” Drago nodded. “They want to believe that magic exists and can do great things.”

  Rose fingered his hair. “That’s where you come in.”

  “I suppose.”

  “You can do it all,” she reminded him.

  “Conjuring. Mentalism. Sleight of hand. Mesmerism, yes. Curiosity draws people closer to me—to see if my abilities are merely gimmicks.”

  Rose considered what Drago said. “It’s frightening to think what will happen to you if someone reveals your biggest secret.”

  “Hopefully, the public will never become that clever,” he remarked dryly.

  “You know so much about the world—about people. Sometimes I think you’re older than your years.”

  He frowned. “I’ve lived many lifetimes in one.”

  Rose touched the amulet nestled above her breasts, then traced its outline. “If we’re going to be married, I want to be honest with you. This necklace frightens me.”

  His eyes flashed like a sea under a tempest. “Don’t be afraid. According to Romanian beliefs, protecting someone is what an amulet is supposed to do.”